Lestrade
by chuxter
Summary: Our latest client was, unfortunately, kidnapped in broad daylight infront of our very eyes in the middle of his pleas for our help, so why can't we find him? Where are you.. Lestrade?
1. Chapter 1

_Hi, sorry I haven't really been writing much lately, my nan's dying of cancer and I don't think I'll be continuing on fanfic much longer._

_Anyway, here's a taste of the next story I was going to release._

_Enjoy._

For the seventeenth time that morning I slammed my newspaper shut, sighing loudly.  
Holmes was carving a tune out of his violin with the help of his horsehair bow.

I sighed again, waiting for a reaction, when there was none I drummed my fingers on the desk I was sat at, gritting my teeth, no reaction, I sighed again. Waited. Screech screech screech.

I banged my fist on the desk, turning to face him with the exclamation, "Homes!"

He paused, "Yes?" He raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"Must you make such a God-awful racket?" I demanded irritably.

"Ah." He set his guitar down and was moving to go toward his chair when a breathless Inspector Lestrade burst into our sitting room, "Holmes!" I should have asked him if he had heard it too if he hadn't looked so serious.

He started to walk towards us, swayed and fell; luckily our couch was conveniently placed in order to catch him.

He lay there gasping, an asphyxiated look etched into his features.

I fell to my knees beside his, trying to help him but he waved me away, still wheezing, his eyes never leaving Holmes'.

"Chased…" he managed before collapsing into a fit of empty breaths, like a fish out of water.

Before we could move to help two men in dark clothing darted into our room.

"There 'e is." The larger man, with a sash round his neck, pointed Lestrade out to his companion.

The smaller, rat-faced man hurtled over the sofa, making me shout, "We's you now we 'as." He grabbed Lestrade's collar, pulling him from the sofa as if he were no more than a rag doll, I heard the painful bang of Lestrade's body hitting the floor, and what little air was left in his lungs exited them at some speed.

Lestrade made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a sob as he was dragged by the collar across the room, he did not attempt to stand or struggle, he was too weak.

Rat-face threw him at the feet of sash-neck, a pleased smile oozing it's way over his features as Lestrade lay sprawled at the other man's feet.

Sash-neck, still holding him by the collar, raised Lestrade to a kneeling position then put a hand on either side of his face and bent over him so that their faces were inches apart, "'ello Guv'nor, seems you an' me's got ourselves a score to be settlin'" He smiled with black teeth into the Inspector's wide, fearful eyes then, before we could begin to react, dragged him from the room, rat-face was quick on his tail, slamming the door shut so as to lock us in.

Before I had even crossed the room I heard the Inspector's body being kicked down the stairs and the door slamming as he left our house.

_Thanks for reading._

_xx_


	2. Chapter 2

_thanks for the reviews._

_xx_

Holmes was like a volcano that had remained dormant for years, allowing the energy to build up beneath him until finally he could hold it in no longer.

He flew through the corridors of Scotland Yard, practically kicked down inspector Gregson's office door, paused breifly, looking around like some sort of urban soldier, launched over Gregson's desk and demanded that the search started immediately, Gregson, of course, had no idea what Holmes was talking about.

"Holmes, I don't have time for this, Lestrade decided to disappear and leave me with all his paperwork." Gregson scowled from behind the few remaining piles of paper that Holmes hadn't knocked off his desk.

"Well that's the problem!" said Holmes, "He's disappeared!"

"I know that Holmes and I'll give him a hiding for it when he decides to come back."

"No." said Holmes, looking irritated, "He's _disappeared_!"

"What do you mean Holmes? Stop speaking in riddles!" Gregson snapped.

"I'm not!" the detective protested, "He disappeared, he was kidnapped.."

"_Kid_napped!" snorted the inspector, finding some humour in the reference to a child.

"Yes!" replied Holmes irritably, "In broad daylight! In front of us! In 221B!"

"Was he now?" Gregson adopted the expression an officer would take if someone told them their child had travelled into the future and written a story about Lestrade being stolen for fans of Holmes before going on to listen to music that was trapped inside a miniture box called an iPod, "Well you just go on home now Mr. Holmes and we'll look after everything."

"No but..."

"_But, _Mr Holmes, _but._" the Inspector stated, as if that was supposed to mean something, "Now you go on home, we wouldn't want anyone getting hurt."

As he said this he stood and walked towards the door, forcing Holmes to move back at the same pace.  
Once Holmes was outside he closed the door, pulling the hinges back into place as he did so, and returned to his paperwork.


End file.
